


afternotes

by mercuryhatter



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blind Character, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Morning Sex, Oral Sex, Post-Episode 155, Trans Female Character, Trans Georgie Barker, extended perfume metaphors, non-graphic eye trauma mention, stone melanie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/pseuds/mercuryhatter
Summary: "Yet in the thousands of perfumes that exist, some express their ideas seamlessly and eloquently from top to bottom and give a beautiful view from any angle. A rare subset of them always seem to have something new and interesting to say, even if you encounter them daily. Those are the greats. By these criteria, one can certainly admire a perfume without necessarily loving it. Love, of course, is personal (but best when deserved).” Tania Sanchez, Perfumes: The Guide
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King
Comments: 21
Kudos: 95





	afternotes

**Author's Note:**

> as mentioned in the tags, Georgie is trans and her body is described in feminine or neutral terms; Melanie's body isn't described at all. also I do not know why this ended up being about perfume I was just thinking about silly things for Melanie to have been into in the past and then I remembered a bunch of things about perfume.

In high school, Melanie had gone through a perfume phase. She’d seen  _ Perfume: The Story of a Murderer _ at a sleepover, her gothy-true-crime side had leaped out, and she spent six months reading every book she could find on the subject. She’d moved on very quickly to doing the same for every afanc sighting in Wales, but she still half-remembered the basics about perfume: head, heart, bottom; amber, woody, floral; solvents and fixatives. She was thinking about it a lot, now that her sight was gone. 

She didn’t miss it-- sight. Sure, there were annoyances and accessibilities to contend with in her daily life that hadn’t existed before. Georgie had to organize all her clothes in sections by color; grocery shopping was suddenly a nightmare; there was the lingering pain in her orbital bones where she hadn’t done the cleanest job in the extraction. But mostly, she just felt an overwhelming, lightheaded feeling of freedom, of safety, of  _ satisfaction _ . 

Once the decision had been made, Melanie actually hadn’t expected to miss her sight very much-- the benefits were so life-alteringly large that the thought of regret was laughable. But she hadn’t expected to feel so completely and quickly safe. She thought it would take time, anticipated the nightmares with dogged determination. And sure, she didn’t sleep perfectly soundly every night. But with the weight of the Eye off her neck, they were far less frequent than Melanie had ever hoped to imagine. 

Head, heart, bottom. Melanie laughed a little to herself, rolling over in bed to capture each element of Georgie in the curve of her body. There were less old-fashioned terms for perfume notes, but where was the fun in that? Head: lavender and bergamot, the smell of Georgie’s conditioner, her riotous curls soft when Melanie pressed her face into the back of Georgie’s neck. Heart: black pepper and rosemary, both Georgie’s hands and Melanie’s still soft and fragrant with the focaccia they’d baked the evening before, twined together near the warmth of Georgie’s chest. Bottom-- well. 

Georgie finally stirred to wakefulness as Melanie wiggled her way down Georgie’s back, kissing at her exposed spine as Georgie stretched. She felt Georgie’s sleepy chuckle in her lips and chased it further down, unwinding her hands from Georgie’s to slide them over the soft curves of her torso. 

“Good morning to you too,” Georgie said, and Melanie just hummed, lips opening lazily to taste the crest of one hip. Georgie moved with the feeling, swaying like a wave at Melanie’s touch. 

“Do you mind?” Melanie asked, one hand sliding around to palm Georgie between her legs. Georgie rolled to her back, letting her thighs fall apart, and Melanie could hear the lazy smile in her voice when she said “Honey, you’d better.” 

They laughed in harmony as Melanie tumbled her way into a comfortable position between Georgie’s legs and stretched up to kiss Georgie’s nose, then her sternum, one hand sliding comfortably over one of Georgie’s breasts. Head, heart-- Melanie pressed her thigh between Georgie’s and felt her twitch and gasp at the pressure-- bottom. 

Melanie could taste every inch of Georgie’s smooth dark skin for lifetimes, or at the very least hours, and with nowhere for either of them to be she did her best to live that dream until her lips were swollen and Georgie could hardly take a breath without making some beautiful sound. Melanie kept it up until Georgie’s voice cracked and her thighs were quivering around Melanie’s waist, until Georgie was gripping the long hair at the top of Melanie’s head with desperate urgency. Then Melanie slid the rest of the way down, cradling Georgie delicately in one hand and pressing her wet lips to the head of her clit. 

Georgie’s sigh of relief seemed to escape her entire body at once, legs moving sweetly around Melanie as she sucked and licked. She spared a moment to lick the fingers of her free hand so that she could slide them around and tease Georgie’s hole. Georgie shifted her hips back and forth between the two sources of stimulation, one hand still in Melanie’s hair, the other flung up to cover her own eyes. At each pause for breath, Melanie asked “okay?” and Georgie said breathlessly “yes,” a constant, cyclical chorus. 

Melanie felt one orgasm shimmer through Georgie and immediately began chasing the next, knew she found it when Georgie’s thighs tightened almost too close around her, muffling her cry behind her hand. Melanie pressed a few more gentle, feather-light kisses to Georgie’s center, softening the aftershocks, before resting her head on Georgie’s belly with a satisfied sigh. 

“I love unemployment,” she said dreamily, and Georgie laughed, tugging without force at Melanie’s hair. Melanie just nuzzled into Georgie’s stomach, smiling when Georgie moved one leg over Melanie’s shoulder to hold her there. 

“Is that all?” Georgie teased. 

“A few other things, I suppose,” Melanie said, mock-contemplative. “These sheets. Blueberry pancakes. The Admiral-- ow! And you, when you’re  _ not _ trying to pull my hair out.” 

“Wouldn’t have to if you’d just be nice the first time,” Georgie said, obviously smirking. It was amazing how many of her expressions, still vivid in Melanie’s memory, that Melanie could hear in her voice. 

“I do love you,” she conceded, swept up in the comfort of the morning. The smell of Georgie’s conditioner, the herbal scent of their hands, now laid over a base of sex and sweat that probably should not smell as good to Melanie as it did. At the moment-- benefits of not dying at the hand of some fear avatar or another aside-- Melanie was hard-pressed to think of a single sense she wouldn’t give up forever for the chance to live in this one for just one morning. 


End file.
